I woke-up in a terrible mood.
I had a dream.
It was not good.
Couldn’t shake the smell of sanitizer cream.
Everyone wore masks.
Everyone walked 6 feet apart.
Stay home. No more work tasks.
Stay home. No more visits to the museum of art.
TV talked of death everywhere.
Radio played songs of sadness.
Out flowed a tear.
Over and over like infinite madness.
There was fear.
And uncertainty.
There was also a lot of care.
And there was plenty of ingenuity.
So many questions.
So few answers.
To make the connections.
Zigzagging like lost wanderers.
Somehow some people cope.
Tied-up in a knot.
Some have hope.
Others not.
So glad it was just a dream.
Ready to zoom.
Or so it would seem.
Here comes that familiar feeling of doom.
Silvia Baptista is an explorer of the written word. Just recently, Silvia started to write a few words here and there about anything and everything. Silvia particularly enjoys connecting the obvious to the not so obvious in verses of poetry.